


The Smile Carved Onto Your Face

by nextdoorneighbor



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Domestic Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fiction, Fluff, Heavy Angst, I'm sorry I seriously like him but like, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Self-Harm, Violence, don't read this if you are a Johnny stan, general saddness, mentioning it anyway, ookay so... I'm sorry?, that's only brief tho, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-10-30 12:15:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10876590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nextdoorneighbor/pseuds/nextdoorneighbor
Summary: Mark wants to run away with Donghyuck, take him away from his abusive family.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooo, I'm back again and with a popular ship, wow at me. Hope this is enjoyable, and please take the tags seriously, I'm not exaggerating on the violence and mental health issues. Again, English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes.

”Let’s run away,” he says, his hand on Donghyuck’s hip as they sit there in the shade, on the side of the of the school yard. He only blinks, Mark can’t be serious. The wind blows through the blond locks, breaking the parting in the middle of his head that he has spent long minutes on just to get it straight. 

“What?” Donghyuck breathes out and he doesn’t waste a second to answer.

“Together. Let’s go far away from here, leave this place for good, Hyuck, just you and me.” He smiles and the other looks at him like he’s speaking a language he can’t understand. 

“W-Where do you get this from? Why are you even asking me this?” Mark smiles that smile that shows his teeth, shifts a little to get into a better position. He searches Donghyuck’s eyes, licks his lips that dried in the summer breeze. 

“Because all I need is you,” he says and Donghyuck whispers his name, posture breaking as he tilts his head. He seems disappointed. “I don’t want to hide anymore. I want see the world with you, to explore. I want to get you out of that house,” he says, reaching for Donghyuck’s hand and pressing his lips onto the back side of it gently. 

“Hyung, I–“ the other says but gets cut off.

“I’m done with them hitting you, telling you that you’re worth nothing. They keep you like a dog, no, they’d keep a dog better.” He spits the words out like they are spoiled as he drags his fingers on the other’s perfect, smooth skin. Donghyuck doesn’t talk about it often, usually it’s just a mention here and there, but Mark hasn’t let it brush off as nothing. Even if his skin won’t let it show that he has been hit again, his eyes tell a different story. The way he flinches when he doesn’t see Mark lifting his hand to pet his cheek. It hurts. He’s not looking at Mark anymore, the ground under is more interesting. He sniffles, blinks back the tears that threaten to fall, and casts his eyes to look at the other people in the yard. 

“It’s fine,” he tries but his voice breaks and his eyes fall. Mark just keeps staring.

“Hyuck, look at me.” His voice lowers to a whisper, too. It takes time but he does eventually, eyes glistening with hurt and words he can’t say out loud. “Leave with me.” The other gulps, presses Mark hand in his own. The conversation pauses again, the noises of other students occupying the air. 

“I-I’ll think about it,” he lets out with difficulty but paints a smile onto his lips when Mark does, letting out a breath. He presses closer as if asking for a permission. Donghyuck shuts his eyes and Mark brushes their lips together and for the first time in a long while, Mark feels hopeful.

 

;;;

 

“Hey.” Donghyuck looks wary. Mark smiles, and with a final check behind his back, he pulls him inside. Mark leans in to give him a kiss but he turns his head so it lands on his cheek.

“Oh, come on. You said no one is home,” Mark pleads but keeps smiling. He knows that it took Donghyuck a lot to agree on showing him his house. The younger looks around, lets out a nervous sigh, and looks back to Mark. He leans in again and this time Donghyuck lets him kiss him even if it doesn’t last long before he pulls away again. His cheeks are colored a pretty shade of pink and he grasps Mark’s hand to lead him further into the house. 

It’s… peculiar, to say at least. The only sound echoing through the rooms is the endless amount of clocks ticking away. The walls are full of paintings and posters and it’s a miracle if there is an empty space where the wallpaper can be seen. The floors are filled with incompatible range of rugs and mats and the ceiling is a one huge piece of artwork, probably custom painted just for this house. Mark’s amazed, how can someone even live in a place like this? It’s like your life would be living inside of a painting.

“Wow,” he lets out when they’ve made their way through most of it. “It’s beautiful,” he says, now looking at the other. He isn’t smiling, and his eyes are trying to hide the truth he wants to let out. 

“My room is this way,” he says and tugs Mark forward in the endless maze he knows by heart. 

The room is in the farthest and darkest end of the house, and Mark catches himself holding his breath when Donghyuck turns the handle on the wooden door. It’s small. Smaller than the room his older brother has at least what he got to see from it when they walked past. It doesn’t differ from the rest of the house though; the walls are full with framed pictures and the floor is not visible from under the rugs. And the amount of books is unbelievable and he wants to ask if the other has read all of them. He has, most certainly.

The first time Donghyuck lets him go and walk on his own is when he shuts the door behind them. Mark inspects the paintings and the bookshelf and then the wobbly stacks of more books that hadn’t fit on the thin shelf. There’s stacks under and on the table, at the end of the narrow bed with an eccentric counterpane with squiggles that makes your eyes hurt if you look at them for too long. On the outer wall there is a door and two windows on either side. The curtains don’t match either, every single one from a totally different world. Then he realizes that only one of the windows is providing light from the sun outside, the only thing illuminating the room. The other is completely black, mirroring Mark and Donghyuck, who is leaning against the door and paying close attention to him. He frowns a little, looking back at the other. 

“What’s in there?” He asks, motions towards the door with the back of his head. Donghyuck only looks at him and then at the door like he hadn’t understood the question. He leans away from the door, makes his way across the room, and grabs the handle before looking back at Mark. He’s been acting weird the whole time but the look he’s giving him is the oddest thing. It’s like he’s measuring him, contemplating on something. With finishing the thoughts that ran in his head, he opens the door. He flips the light switch in the next room and from his place, Mark only sees gray. Donghyuck looks at him expectantly and goes through the door, waiting for him to follow. 

The room isn’t gray however. It’s not even a room. Mark walks down the steps onto the grass. It’s a greenhouse. The air is humid and just a little bit too warm so it makes Mark’s sweater cling to his skin and a drop of sweat run down his hairline. The glass of the walls is full of condensation so it’s not see-through, but somehow it seems like it’s night outside. Complete blackness. But Mark knows that that is not possible since the sun was shining just a minute ago. He looks around the greenhouse, realizing just now that the only plants that are occupying the space are rose bushes. And they are not the original red kind. They are black. Millions of black roses, nothing else. All the bushes grow in tight linear lines, all trimmed into perfect smooth shape. Even the grass seems to be even height everywhere and the way the whole place is so perfect on the point makes it almost spooky. He cradles one of the flowers in the nearest bush. It seems fragile with it’s light absorbing petals. It smells nice and he wants to pick it out and give it to Donghyuck but stops himself. What good would it do?

“What is this place, Donghyuck?” He asks, awe, wonder, and wariness, all painting his voice at the same time. The other hadn’t moved from his place on the steps but now makes his way closer. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he says with a forced laugh, reaching his side. 

“Please do,” Mark insists and lets go of the lone rose in his hand to face the other. They exchange looks, Mark is not sure what Donghyuck is thinking about, but then again, he never is. Donghyuck starts walking again and Mark follows him even though the garden is not big and he can see over the bushes. 

“This place doesn’t exist,” claims Donghyuck, like it’s something that you hear every day. Mark stops walking even if Donghyuck doesn’t. How could he say that when it’s obviously not possible. “Every single blooming rose in here represents a moment of hurt, a bruise I should have gotten on my skin, every time someone has looked down on me,” he continues, walks around the bushes, running his fingers over the black petals. Mark feels awful. “Hyung,” the other suddenly calls and he looks back up. At what time had he dropped his gaze? “I can’t let you leave now,” he says with a shaky breath and Mark’s eyebrows knit together. He let’s out an unceremonious noise of a question and feels something grip tightly onto his shin. He looks down to see a briar grow up his leg and jumps, feeling the thorns bite mercilessly into his flesh and he shouts in panic and pain. 

“What the hell?” He says, not knowing what to do. He looks back up at the younger, who comes closer again, eyes glued to his leg. “Hyuck, I don’t know what this is or where it’s coming from, but please, let me go, please, ah – it hurts,” he says, trying to reach for the other but the plant makes him fall onto the ground. He’s just out of reach, another inch and Mark could touch him. He sits onto the ground cross-legged, his gaze yelling apologies. 

“I’m sorry,” he tells him, a lone tear rolling down his cheek. “Youngho hyung came home, I can’t–“ he says and the air gets sliced with a sharp intake of a breath. The thorns bite again and it draws blood, making Mark cry out. “I’ll let you out, I promise, it’s just – I can’t let him see you,” he says and before he knows it, both of his wrists get locked down onto the ground, too. That’s when Donghyuck reaches out and pets his cheek like there is nothing wrong in the situation. He sniffles. “I’m so sorry Mark hyung,” he whispers and pulls back. He gets up and his wrists get set free. 

“Donghyuck-ah,” Mark calls desperately, rubbing his wrists as he watches the other walk away. 

“Don’t worry, hyung. No one will notice you being gone, time doesn’t exist here and so neither do you,” he says and the lights flicker off, leaving him in complete darkness. 

 

;;;

 

He doesn’t know how long it takes, seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years, before there is light again, and if Donghyuck was speaking the truth, there hadn’t been time in between at all. Or maybe there was all the time, he doesn’t know. He’s been lying on the ground the whole time, body forgetting that it should feel hunger and thirst. The light burns his eyes after the infinite darkness and his lids screw shut, hand slapping over them, too. He groans and turns onto his side. When he opens his eyes again, there is a pair of legs in front and his sight climbs up them, all the way to the face that is held upon those legs. 

“Hyung,” Donghyuck breathes out, smile making it’s way onto his lips effortlessly. He drops onto the ground next to him and Mark finds himself smiling, too. “Hi,” he says and lays down. 

“Hello,” he says back and his hand flies up automatically to pet the side of his head. “How are you?” Donghyuck’s gaze falters and his smile drops. Mark moves himself closer the best he can muster. “You look really pretty,” he says. It’s easy, and he likes how Donghyuck’s face burns red after that. “How long has it been?” Donghyuck only shrugs at that. 

“A few days,” he says it like it doesn’t matter. 

“Planning on letting me out any time soon?” It’s half a joke, he hopes Donghyuck understands. 

“Youngho hyung is always home. I know the house is big but I– he hears and sees everything, I...” He gulps, looks away. 

“Why can’t I just… leave? What is so bad about–“ He doesn’t finish. Donghyuck looks alarmed.

“Y-You don’t know what he will do, hyung, I– you can’t. He can’t see you, he will...”

“What will he do, Donghyuck?” The other is silent for a while, panic written onto his face.

“He hates it when I have friends. He hates it because he could never get any of his own. I don’t want to know what he will do if he sees you here, in our house, ah.” He looks away. His chest is rising and falling faster than normal and Mark just wants to wrap his arms around him and calm him down. The briar around his leg seems to tighten it’s grip again and he hisses, eyes getting watery. “I beg of you, hyung, I don’t want him to hurt you, too.” His eyes look pleading and Mark feels useless. He nods, and nods again. 

“What about your parents?” Donghyuck seems to space out at that. 

“My–“

“Donghyuck!” There is an angry yell filling the air and the younger jolts. “Are you here?” It’s terror in his features now and Mark wants to do something, anything. 

“Yes, hyung, I’m coming,” he answers with shaky voice, and he gets up, dusting himself off, not sparing a glance at him before sprinting back to the door. Mark can’t hear what they are talking about exactly but his whole body jumps at the sudden smack that echoes through the greenhouse. Right in front of his eyes, a new black rose blooms into a beautiful big flower. It’s a long, disappointed-feeling silence later that the lights flicker off again and Mark is left to lie there and cry. 

 

;;;

 

He wakes from his slumber. It’s pitch black, still, no one came. He sits up, the plant around his leg seems loose. He frowns, letting out a hiss when he reaches for it and he cuts his finger. He doesn’t give up though, reaches for it again and peels it off like it had never even been tight. It feels good, getting the ever-pressing spikes away from his leg. His skin bleeds bad but he doesn’t care, at least it doesn’t hurt so much. After a while he stands up, too, starting to see the outlines of the bushes even in the minimum light. He navigates his way through the maze of roses, right back to the door. He looks in from the window into Donghyuck’s room. He’s sleeping on his bed under the window, no wonder the briar was so loose. He fumbles for the door handle in the dark for a second before finding it. Surely it’s locked. 

It isn’t. The moonlight in the room escapes into the dark behind him and he takes a step into the room. It smells strongly of Donghyuck and Mark smiles. He wants to lay down on the bed, too, wrap himself around the other. He gnaws at his bottom lip while looking at the lump of sheets for a while, contemplating on waking him up. But he looks so peaceful. He never looks this peaceful, always worrying thoughts falling from his ears, no use how hard he tries to be happy. So he settles on just admiring for a few minutes before crossing the room as silently as he is able to, happy for the rugs that silence his steps. 

The air in the hallway feels heavy and there is a pungent smell of something rotting that penetrates his sense of smell and makes him want to throw up the occupants of his stomach. He has never encountered a smell this disgusting before and he doesn’t know what it could be either. He looks around in the dim light, the house is dead silent. Donghyuck’s brother or parents surely aren’t awake at this time, so he could just walk out, right?

He takes careful steps and hopes to every god out there that the old flooring won’t creak. The smell becomes even more noticeable the further he walks, and even if he breathes through his mouth and holds his nose between his fingers, he can smell it. He’s in front of their parents’ bedroom and he realizes that this is where the smell comes from. He’s curious, the door is open, and maybe a peek inside won’t hurt anyone. 

The parents are on the bed, he can make out their bodies in the dark, but he can’t _hear_ a thing. Realization is creeping up on him slowly. The bodies aren’t moving. They aren’t breathing. They are dead. 

Mark stumbles back in the dark, hitting his back against a table or a drawer, he’s not sure. What the fuck is going on? It must be a dream. 

“Who are you?” His face snaps to the door where stands a dark figure, eyes glowing in the dark. The light flickers on and he sees the guy. His a lot taller than Mark, dark brown, overgrown hair hanging over on his face. Mark looks back to the bed, the sight leaving nothing up to imagination. Their skins black with bruises, eyes staring at deep nothing, dried blood in the corners of their mouths, noses and ears. Mark wants to puke.

“B-Bodies, dead bodies, I, they–“ he stammers, leaning on the wooden thing behind him for dear life. 

“I asked you a question,” the other says, taking a step into the room and Mark recognizes his voice. This must be Youngho. He certainly isn’t fazed by the two bodies in the room or the piercing smell they give off and Mark feels the hair on his neck and arms stand up. “Who the fuck are you?” He spells out every word so slowly a baby would understand. Mark gulps. 

“L-Lee Mark,” he tries and the taller comes closer, eyes screaming murder. 

“What are you doing in my house?” He smiles, what tries to be, in a friendly way but it looks like he’s a crazy person. Mark’s afraid out of his mind. He tries to stutter out an answer but gets cut off. “Answer me properly!” Youngho’s screaming now and Mark’s pretty sure he’s trembling visibly. He jolts when the other suddenly takes a fistful of the front of his shirt and pulls him in, so close that their noses touch. He has never even thought of being in a situation so intimidating before. His own hand comes up to his chest, too, and he understands that he shouldn’t have done that just when it’s too late. The other looks at it, frowns. Mark is breathing quickly, the sickening smell long forgotten when adrenaline is pumping through his veins. 

“Hyung,” they hear a startled voice and both of them look to the door. It’s Donghyuck, standing there, staring at them, bewilderment in his eyes. 

“Little brother!” Youngho’s voice sounds actually delighted and before Mark knows it, he’s been thrown onto the floor before Donghyuck. They look at each other for a second before the oldest speaks up again. “Mind telling me what the fuck this is?” Mark turns so he’s sitting on the ground, moving slowly backwards as Youngho comes forward, staring at Donghyuck. The youngest glances at Mark before looking up again. 

“I don’t know who–“

“Don’t you dare lie to me, bitch,” he claims, volume of his voice ever-growing, and Mark can feel Donghyuck wither behind him. “You think I’m blind? Like I didn’t see the cuts on his hands? He’s been in the garden,” he continues, coming closer and they back away into the hall. Mark scrambles to his feet, and when Youngho tries to grab Donghyuck, he steps in his way. His nerves aren’t that good so he is surprised with himself when he does it. The way Youngho is staring at him would usually make him run away; when it was fight or flight, he always chose flight, but now that it was him or Donghyuck, he wouldn’t miss a beat to offer himself. There’s a squeaked ‘hyung’ from behind his back and he’s not sure which one Donghyuck means but maybe it doesn’t matter. “Brave, aren’t we now?” Asks Youngho, smile once again climbing onto his dry lips. Mark’s heart is threatening on beating itself straight out of his chest but he doesn’t let his gaze falter. 

“It’s not his fault,” he says, determined. The older looks at him expectantly. “I–I pushed him. Made him show me what’s behind the door,” he says, making it up as he talks, not letting himself drop the other’s gaze. “You can’t–“ _slap._ The floor. What? He feels dizzy. Blood? His hand comes up to his nose. Yup, that’s blood. He looks up to see the two look at him, Donghyuck looking terrified. 

“Get. Out.” The anger in his voice makes it even more intimidating than it already was, and when he takes a swift step towards Mark, he crawls further, gets onto his feet. He registers Donghyuck crying in the distance but keeps moving away. _Coward, coward, coward,_ his mind repeats as he goes. “Get the fuck out!” That’s the last thing he hears and certainly the most loud and psycho- sounding thing yet. He runs all the way back home, only stopping to throw up in some alley. 

 

;;;

 

Mark counts fifteen days since he last saw Donghyuck. He hasn’t come to school ever since Mark left his house and he is worried, so worried in fact that he can’t sleep at night. Every muscle in his body is hurting and his brain is screaming at him to sleep but he can’t. All he can think about is that night and how he just ran away. He blames himself. He’s never felt this kind of anger for himself before, he has never had a problem with himself but now? He doesn’t know how to go on. 

He has considered on going back, he has considered on calling the police because, what if Youngho hurt Donghyuck after he left? What if Donghyuck is– no. He stops at that. Donghyuck is fine. It’s not the first time he has skipped school for this long. Mark is leaning against the wall, staring down at his phone even if the screen is black. He fights against the tiredness. 

There’s a hand on his shoulder, he turns to look, and his brain hardly registers the lilac-brown tuft of hair before he’s wrapping himself around the other. His hand comes up to the other’s head protectively and he keeps on repeating ‘hey’ like a mantra he can’t stop. When he finally pulls back just enough to see the face he’s longed for so much, he keeps his head in his hands, stares at his eyes, looking for any kind of discomfort, glad to find none. “Are you okay? Is everything alright? Are you hurt?” The questions flow from his mouth in whispers and Donghyuck smiles. He smiles, and it feels like all in the world is right again. 

“I’m okay, hyung,” the other claims, nods his head. “Talk?” He simply asks, and they walk off, hand in hand. 

They find themselves behind the school, leaning on the exterior wall. They aren’t supposed to be out here, students are only allowed in the front yard, but it’s okay, no one noticed them. Donghyuck has both of his legs spread over Marks lap, his head in the crook of his neck. Mark pets his back, leans his head to the other’s. Donghyuck is playing with his other hand like a child, crossing his fingers and lacing their hands together, letting out a sigh. Mark doesn’t care that they aren’t in class. It’s fine. Donghyuck is finally here. 

“I lied to you,” he says quietly, his eyelashes tickling Mark’s skin. He speaks before he can question it. “I told you that you were in the garden for a few days but it was–“

“A few weeks, yeah, I know how to use a calendar, silly,” Mark says with a chuckle, rubbing his head lightly on Donghyuck’s, as an act of affection. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice breaks just a little and Mark gives his hand a squeeze. 

“That’s okay.”

“I just – I was afraid,” he continues, not acknowledging Mark’s words. He never does, always blaming himself. Mark closes his eyes. The light wind feels nice. 

“Well, I’m certainly not surprised.”

“Hyung,” the other says, pulls his head back, and Mark opens his eyes, focusing on the other. “My parents, he...” His worrying his bottom lip again. 

“He did it, didn’t he?” Mark figured. Of course it was Youngho. Donghyuck pushes himself back into the previous position, letting out a shaky breath. 

“I really want to say that he didn’t mean to...” His voice is so small, and his body seems even smaller as he curls right up into Mark. It takes him a while to speak, but Mark knows it’s hard for him. He knows he needs time to think of his words. “It was so horrifying,” he gulps. “It started at dinner one night. My parents – father, he asked why Youngho hasn’t sought for a degree place yet. That he should, he can’t live at home like this forever.” Mark brings his hand to Donghyuck’s hair, cards his fingers through it but doesn’t comment. “He doesn’t want to because he knows that none of the places would be for him. He would stick out, he can’t make long time friends. He can’t concentrate on studying either, his imagination runs too wild. He knows this so he doesn’t want to. He then turned the situation so father doesn’t care for him. That he just wants him out of the house.” There’s a pause again. Donghyuck is shivering, and Mark holds him closer. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers into Donghyuck’s hair and pecks his forehead. 

“He got the aggressiveness from father, he raised him to fend for himself. Neither of them would ever back down for a fight, ever. For the next few days they didn’t talk, just let the anger grow.” He squeezes Mark’s middle and shuts his eyes tight. “A-And then it just blew up. Me and mom didn’t know what to do, they just started fighting. First verbally and suddenly they were on the ground and–“ His breathing is heavy and Mark feels horrible. Donghyuck deserves none of this. “They went on and on and I thought it was never going to stop and there was blood everywhere… And father just kept pushing him to it, feeding the flames and I could see the forest fire in his eyes when he sat up from the ground, from h-his l-lifeless body, I–“ Donghyuck is crying now and Mark just keeps petting his hair and staring at the ground. It feels surreal. “And that’s when I knew it wasn’t his first time. He had done it before. And he wasn’t done after it. He… Mom. He attacked her, too, screaming slurs at her, saying that she was the same as father. I couldn’t – Mark, I wanted to do something but I couldn’t,” he says and Mark feels like shit.

“I know, baby. I know.” He settles and the other keeps crying. 

“I wanted to help her and they both just screamed and she cried and when I tried to run away, he stopped me, told me to stay. After he was done, he – he forced me to help him take them to the bedroom. I-I cried the next nights, I couldn’t do anything. I was so scared,” he says and Mark can’t even pretend to know how Donghyuck must have felt like. 

“God, that’s so horrible. I’m so fucking sorry, Hyuck,” he tries, not knowing what to say after the story. 

“W-We buried their bodies in the garden after you left. In the farthest corner.” It’s quiet after that, both too traumatized to actually say anything. 

“We need to call the police,” he says after a while and that’s when the other pulls back, his cheeks striped with dried out tear tracks. 

“No.”

“Hyuck, he needs help–“ 

“He killed our parents, hyung,” he says, voice breaking several times. “He can’t be helped.” Mark nods hesitantly. He agrees, knowing that it was useless to argue. “Hyung,” the other calls even though they are looking at each other. “Please take me far away from here,” he whispers and Mark lifts the corner of his lips. The other sniffles and Mark pets his cheeks. 

“I will.”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight.” They smile, Mark pulls him in, their lips crash, he tastes salt, and once again, he feels hopeful. 

 

;;;

 

It has been thirty minutes on the dot now. He feels worried, almost bites through his bottom lip. He leans against the steering wheel, careful not to press the horn in the middle. Donghyuck had promised to be quick and yeah, Mark had parked there a little earlier than they had agreed on, but it shouldn’t be taking this long. He only needs some clothes and money, since he doesn’t own a phone or anything else he would need. Maybe a few books, but that is it and Mark really tries to think that Youngho hasn’t caught him. That soon Donghyuck will appear in the rear-view mirror and he can start the car and they will drive through the night, so far away, there would be no chance of Youngho finding them. 

He hears something and there is movement in the corner of his eye. He glances at the mirror. His heart misses a beat. He scrambles for the ignition under the wheel, breath catching in his throat. “Shit, shit, shit–“ 

The door flies open and he gets to stare Youngho straight in the eye for a second before he’s been pulled out of the car. His body gets slammed against it, the expression on the older’s face unforgiving. 

“Hyung!” Donghyuck screams from the side but Mark can’t look away. “Hyung, please,” he pleads.

“Shut up, filthy rat,” Youngho yells, effectively shutting the youngest up. “Where the fuck did you thing you were going to take him?” He stares at Mark and his breathing is quick. “Fucking hell! Do you think I’m that stupid, huh?!” He grips his shirt, spins, and the next thing he knows is the pain in his head. There’s screams and his sight blurs. There’s something wet in his hair. Blood. He hit his head against the ground. He lets out a breath and hears another shout. He’s been unwillingly turned onto his back on the ground and before he can comprehend it, There’s a blow on his face and he sees the empty street. His head is blurry and he can’t think straight. 

Punch.

_”I’ve been meaning to tell you this, Donghyuck. I really like you.”_

_“W-What?”_

_“I really do, and it’s okay if you–“_

_“I like you too, hyung.”_

Punch.

_”Kiss me, hyung.”_

_“Are you being serious? In here?”_

_“This is the absolute last time I’m asking you this.”_

Punch.

_Lips and laughter and caring._

Punch.

_“I love you.”_

_Whispers._

_“I love you, too.”_

Quiet. Mark breathes. Is he dead? There’s no repetitive hand connecting with his face. He dares to open his eyes slowly. It’s the gray road, he surely isn’t dead. All of it hurts. He turns his head, groans, he has never felt this awful physically. What he sees is not making sense to him, but nothing is, really. It’s Donghyuck, holding onto Youngho’s wrist for dear life, saying something. 

“Hyung, stop!” He makes out. There’s tears rolling down his cheeks. “Please stop hurting him, please!”

“What is that? You were still like a stone when it was mother on the ground! And now you found this protecting side from within you? You dare to interrupt me, you–“ He comes to a halt suddenly. They stare at each other for a while and then Youngho’s mouth opens almost in slow motion. It’s a happy sound. He’s laughing. He turns his head to Mark, keeps laughing. It’s terrifying. Psychotic. “Oh, how dumb I can be!” He shouts at the sky and Donghyuck’s looking at Mark, understanding as little as he is. “You love this fucker, don’t you, brother?” 

_Fuck._

“Hyung, I beg of you, please stop hitting him,” he tries with shaky breath and hands, but is only met with more loud laughter. 

“I can’t fucking believe this!” He shouts and it takes one swift motion that Donghyuck’s on the ground, too, Youngho turning to look at Mark again, fire burning in his eyes. He grips his hair and pulls him closer. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“Hyung,” Donghyuck is scrambling closer. “I’ll do anything, please!” Youngho looks back at him. 

“Anything?” 

“Yes, anything! Please don’t hurt him,” Donghyuck cries and Youngho thinks about it for a moment. Mark’s holding his breath. 

“Hmm, no.” And that’s when the back of Mark’s head hits the ground. 

 

;;;

 

White. Is he dead or in a hospital? He sure hopes for the latter. The thing he is lying on is rather hard. He registers someone weeping somewhere… not far. Now that he thinks about it, It’s not white, it’s gray. He turns his head and he knows exactly where he is. The greenhouse. He sits up, sees Donghyuck. He sits on the stairs, crying into his hands. 

“Hyuck,” he calls, but the other doesn’t stir. He gets onto his feet, walks closer. “Donghyuck, hey,” he says again, the other still not budging. He frowns, why isn’t he acknowledging him? Suddenly the other stands up, wipes his face with his sleeves. He walks towards Mark and he smiles, feeling relief. He feels relief to the point the other walks right past him, doesn’t even react when Mark puts his hand onto his shoulder. He almost calls again but then he notices where Donghyuck is going. Right in the middle of the garden stands a new rose bush. It’s shaped a perfect ball but it’s still different from the rest. It’s roses are red. Donghyuck walks to it, sniffles, cradles one of the flowers. Mark walks to his side. The flower paints Donghyuck’s hand crimson red. It looks like blood. It is blood. 

“Donghyuck,” there’s a call from behind. They look, it’s Youngho. The youngest starts walking back to the door and Mark goes in his wake. 

“Hyuck,” he calls a several times, feeling empty. “Please look at me!” Donghyuck turns, looks straight at him, or through him, he’s not sure. His breath catches. Does Donghyuck see him or does he not? He searches his eyes. Nothing. 

“Donghyuck!” An impatient voice calls again and Donghyuck jolts. He stares a second longer and then turns away, walks to the door, turns off the lights, and shuts the door after him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so um... Yeah. This was supposed to be an alternative ending, like 1k words AT MOST. Guess that didn't happen... This is more like a sequel (it literally has more words than the first chapter), and to be honest, I like this a lot better than the original ending. I'm thinking about replacing it with this, what do you think? 
> 
> If someone is confused, this replaces the last two paragraphs of the first chapter, so it's at the point where they are about to run away. 
> 
> Also, THANK YOU FOR ALL THE COMMENTS AND KUDOS AND HITS!! Like oh my God! I can't believe the response I got on this! Incredible! 
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing this!

It has been thirty minutes on the dot now. He feels worried, almost bites through his bottom lip. He leans against the steering wheel, careful not to press the horn in the middle. Donghyuck had promised to be quick and yeah, Mark had parked there a little earlier than they had agreed on, but it shouldn’t be taking this long. He only needs some clothes and money, since he doesn’t own a phone or anything else he would need. Maybe a few books, but that is it and Mark really tries to think that Youngho hasn’t caught him. That soon Donghyuck will appear in the rear-view mirror and he can start the car and they will drive through the night, so far away, there would be no chance of Youngho finding them. 

He hears something and there is movement in the corner of his eye. He glances at the mirror. His heart misses a beat. He scrambles for the ignition under the wheel, breath catching in his throat. “Shit, shit, shit–“

What he first saw, was a running Donghyuck. Weird, why is he run– oh shit. His heart is beating hard against his chest. Youngho is running right after him. The car starts and the door on the passenger's side is yanked open. Mark waits just long enough that Donghyuck is half in and steps onto the gas pedal, the car pushing to move forward as quickly as it can. Donghyuck pulls the door shut and flings his bag in the back seat. Mark sees in his peripheral vision how he is left to stare at his brother through the back of the car. He’s getting smaller, the farther he is left into the horizon. All that can be heard is their heavy breathing and the car’s motor that is pushing hard not to conk out because of the harsh treatment. Mark gives mercy on the pedal, the car slowing just a tad, and gives the other a glance. He is pressed into the seat, his gaze glued in front. That’s when the realization hits him.

“Hyuck,” he says, a smile climbing onto his face when he glances to his side again and the other is looking at him. “We did it!” Just for a few seconds it’s silent, but then they break out laughing. They don’t know why they laugh, maybe it’s the adrenaline letting down, maybe it’s just the relief they feel, but what is sure is that it has been a long time since they’ve laughed like this. 

“Hyung, hyung, we did it! I can’t believe this! We did it!” Donghyuck is so happy and Mark could cry. The other leans over the hand break and gives his cheek a peck, and Mark looks at him, smiles even wider. The other never kisses him first. They drive into the night, radio blasting louder than either of them have ever imagined it could play. Hand in hand they speed through the empty streets and sing lyrics they don’t know and laugh at each other’s mistakes. 

Donghyuck is fast asleep after an hour, and so is Mark if he won’t get coffee in the near future. He pulls up to the nearest around-the-clock service station on the side of the road he sees and sits there for a while. The sleep deprivation he has had for the last few nights is really backfiring on him now, his eyes falling shut however hard he tries to stay awake. He slaps himself lightly, shakes his head, he can’t fall asleep now, he still has to find a place for them to sleep at. He glances to his side to see a sleeping Donghyuck. The corner of his lips curves up even if he doesn’t mean it to and his hand comes up to pull Donghyuck’s jacket that is acting as a makeshift blanket, better onto him. The other stirs and Mark’s heart misses a beat. He didn’t want to wake the other. His eyes open just a little and Mark grimaces to himself. Donghyuck looks around sleepily and when he realizes that he isn’t in his bed, he seems to panic.

“Hey, hey,” Mark says quietly, plants his hand on the other’s arm. He jumps. “It’s okay, you are in my car, remember?” The other just stares at him, panic going away but sleep still making his brain a mush. Mark then understands that Donghyuck has never slept anywhere else than his own bed. No wonder he freaked out. “We are at some gas station, I need some coffee. Do you want anything?” He keeps his voice low, doesn’t want to bark at his half asleep boyfriend. He knows the situation must be weird for Donghyuck and he hadn’t missed the way he had startled when he had touched him. 

“Mmm,” he mumbles and Mark wants to coo at him, sleepy Donghyuck is cute Donghyuck. “Bathroom?” He mumbles some more and his eyes shut again. 

“You’ll come with? Okay,” Mark says, turning off the car. He steps out, notices how cold the night is, shivers, and makes his way to the other side of the car. He opens the door carefully and they start at the well-lit building. Once Mark has gotten his coffee, and is waiting for Donghyuck to come back from the restroom, he goes through the few shelves of the convenience store that is attached to the gas station. What he knows is more essential right now, is water. They leave the station ten minutes later, deciding to not buy anything else than water and food for right now. The coffee doesn’t help really when Mark has so much sleep dept on himself and so they decide on pulling over to some small, bushy road in the forest. That night Mark doesn’t see a single bad dream or wake up on random. He doesn’t remember when he slept this well the last time. 

 

;;;

 

He gets woken up by an exited Donghyuck. He’s shaking his shoulders, calling his name. He wants to show Mark something. The younger pulls him out of the car and starts to lead him further into the forest, away from the main road and the car. The road hasn’t been used in ages, it has been occupied by tall grass and twigs. Mark doesn’t have a clue on what Donghyuck has found and wants to oh so desperately show him. Eventually they come to a clearing. The sun is shining and Mark needs to cover his eyes with his hand at that. First he only sees tall grass everywhere around and wonders if this is really what the other wanted to show him. 

“Come on!” He gets tugged forward in the grass and then he sees water. The ground slopes down in front, all the way to the water-level. There is a little shore, perfect if you wanted to take a dip in the water. “And look!” He turns his eyes to where Donghyuck is pointing at. It’s a little, brown and gray house, a cabin to be more precise. It’s on a hill, almost hanging over the water. Well, it’s not a hill where they are looking at it from, it’s on the same level as they are at and it’s overlooking the lake. The place is beautiful. “The door wasn’t locked,” Donghyuck claims matter-of-factly. Mark looks at him.

“Hyuck! You went in? We can’t just barge in on someone else’s property!” He scolds but lets the other pull him forward in the grass. 

“The place obviously hasn’t been visited in years, hyung! Maybe it’s abandoned,” Donghyuck says and they reach the cabin, step onto the front porch which wooden blanks had lost their color and are creaking like they would give out under them. They go inside, even if Mark protests. It’s small, there is a tiny bathroom, a kitchen, and even a bedroom. All the old furniture is still there and it seems untouched, all the walls and windows in tact. There is some old cans in the kitchen cabinets all dating back to last year, meaning that they had been there for at least four since canned food lasts long. It really is something, Mark thinks, and with a little struggle, pulls the glass door open that leads to the porch in the back, looking over the water. He goes outside to look at the view and Donghyuck follows him. “Hyung.” They look at each other. 

“I don’t know, Hyuck. We don’t have any rights on the lot. We can’t just–“

“Just for the summer, hyung. We could gather some money, find a real apartment in the town near from here! No one would know we stayed here, and we wouldn’t be charged anything.” Mark gnaws at his lip. Donghyuck has a point. He knew when they ran away that he would have to let go on some luxuries like a real bed and that he always had money and a roof on top of his head. He knew that, but could he live without electricity and proper plumbing like this? “Got any better ideas?” Donghyuck pulls him out of his thoughts with the question. “Because your car is nice and all but kind of uncomfortable to sleep in and we don’t have the money to stay at a motel for long and–“

“No,” he says and the other looks almost devastated. “No, I don’t have any better ideas,” he clarifies and the other jumps, wraps his arms around his neck. This summer is going to be the most interesting one yet. 

 

;;;

 

It’s a process. Mark has certainly never taken part in anything this big before. They clean the whole house, throwing out anything and everything that has been eaten by a rat or something else. Mark drives the car to the field, too, opens the doors and turns the radio volume up. They find a scythe from the shed behind the house and take turns in clearing out the tall grass so it is easier to move in the meadow. They wash the bedclothes at the shore with a piece of soap they found in the bathroom after sleeping in the car for a week. They wash each other’s hair and backs, too, only to find out there is only one clean towel left. Mark gets it first but ends up giving it to Donghyuck when he pouts. The first few nights they sleep on the same bed, they stay on their own sides. It’s fine really, neither of them has shared a bed with anyone before. 

They find a little café on the side of the main road they originally drove down the first night. It’s a walking distance away from the cabin, and the owner is a nice, middle aged woman with an obscene sense of humor and curly red hair always pinned on top of her head. Her name is Katrina. She is glad to take them in and offer them jobs. 

And now that it is just the two of them, they get to be so much more free. They never got to experience it all, always looked down on when they were together at school and they never were even able to spent time together on their free time since Donghyuck was always kept home. They like to cuddle, they find. It’s constant, they cuddle on the couch, the bed, they wrap around each other at the shore when they lie under the sun. Donghyuck is always reading, too. The cabin has a shelf full of books, most of that Donghyuck has never heard off, and he’s glad, at least he has something to do. There’s a lot more kissing, too. Mark starts it, of course, asks always before, he doesn’t want Donghyuck to be uncomfortable. He never is, though, they hold hands, giggle in between kisses. Katrina helps them dye Mark’s hair back to it’s original color when the contrast of the blond and the black of the roots starts to annoy him too much. Donghyuck’s hair-color has only faded out so it doesn’t have to be dyed. They cut each other’s hair the same night, too, both of their cuts way overgrown.

But even if life is completely different now, it’s not only rainbows and flower fields and sunshine. To be more exact, Donghyuck’s mind doesn’t let it be. Mark can’t be with the other every second, and he doesn’t even want to, everyone needs to be alone sometimes, so he doesn’t always know what Donghyuck is doing. 

Donghyuck has lived his whole life in fear. For all of his life he has been told that he is wrong, that he is weak, waste of space. And however hard Mark has tried to tell him to dismiss it, that it’s not true, Donghyuck can’t let it go. Mark tries to understand. He tries to understand when he walks in on the other, silently staring at the wall, totally buried into his thoughts. It usually goes away, Mark just sits next to him, pulls him into his chest. Sometimes the younger cries, sometimes he doesn’t, and to Mark, it’s three times more terrifying when he doesn’t. He doesn’t know what it is exactly that goes through his mind, he never talks about it.

And so he isn’t surprised when he walks into the living room one night and sees Donghyuck on the couch, a book in hand, other hand gripping onto his wrist and eyes glued to the spot on the floor in the furthest end of the room. He walks closer slowly, calls his name, and when the other finally notices him, he jumps, and the book flies to the floor. Mark apologizes on scaring him, squatting before him, asking if everything is alright. He never knows how he should act when Donghyuck is like this. The other only stares with wide eyes, and when Mark tries to take his hand, he moves his away like it would burn him. Mark frowns, and then sees it. Donghyuck wrist’s skin is pink. 

“Hyuck,” he gasps, the other tries to pull his hand away but Mark catches it, reveals the five red little crescents carved deep into the tan skin. He looks back up to the other, he’s looking away. “Donghyuck, what is this?” He tries to keep the worry and panic away from his voice. “Why did you hurt yourself, hey,” he says and the other tries to get away. He cups his cheek, doesn’t let go. Donghyuck looks lost, breathing a little quicker than normal. Mark gets up, pulls him to his chest. He is afraid. He knows Donghyuck is mentally ill but he can’t recall him hurting himself once before. He doesn’t know what to say. Donghyuck wraps his arms around him, too, nuzzles into his neck. “Why did you hurt yourself, baby? Please, don’t do it again, please,” he begs, rocks them back and front, closes his eyes tight. 

“I’m sorry, hyung.” It’s so small and submissive, Mark’s heart breaks into tiny pieces and he squeezes the other. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–“

“Baby, no, it’s okay, but please, don’t do it again,” he claims, tries to pull away to look at his face but Donghyuck doesn’t let him, pulls him back in. They sit there for long minutes, Donghyuck doesn’t cry, but doesn’t move away either. Mark gets an idea, but hesitates on voicing it. They never talk about these kind of situations, and Mark isn’t sure what else to do than just hug the other to make him feel better. “D-Do – would you like to talk about it?” He’s sure the other won’t even answer him. He shouldn’t have asked. The other stirs first, then moves a little more. Is he uncomfortable? He makes a little sound of question. “I – would it help? If you talk to me about what you are thinking of?” Donghyuck doesn’t answer for a while and Mark decides on not trying anymore. He was stupid for even thinking. He feels the other gulp. 

“I–I’ve never tried,” Donghyuck says quietly against his skin. Mark holds his breath. “I – the book. I was reading it and it’s main character – hyung?” Mark jolts, nods his head, but doesn’t say anything. “Are you sure I’m not bothering you?” He pulls away, frowns at the younger. 

“No, of course not. You can always speak to me if you need to,” he says without hesitation, searches Donghyuck’s eyes, finds fear, and frowns even deeper. Donghyuck pulls himself back to him, exhales a shaky breath. “So, you were talking about the book?” He tries to encourage. 

“The character is perfect at everything they do. And I just started to think, and – I’m not. I’m good at nothing–“

“That’s not true, Hyuck, you–“

“Hyung, if you want me to talk, you can’t turn down everything I say. That’s not going to work.” Mark nods against Donghyuck’s head and closes his eyes. Donghyuck’s rules, not his. “So, I thought, I’m good for nothing. I’m little, and weak, powerless, ugly, a liability. I give up too easily, I never finish anything. Useless… hyung? Hyung.” Donghyuck pulls away again, cradles his face. “Hyung, please don’t cry,” he says softly and Mark sniffles. He hadn’t even noticed it, but the tears are rolling down his face and he tries hard to focus on the other’s face for some time before making it out through the tears. He’s confused. “Mark, please,” Donghyuck says and it doesn’t take long before he’s crying, too. “Why are you crying, hyung? Please, don’t.”

“Hyuck, you are none of those things,” Mark cries out and Donghyuck crumbles in his arms. “How can you think that? It’s not true, it’s not, baby...” he says into his ear and they cry so long they fall asleep on the couch. 

It gets easier after that. Donghyuck opens up to him more often than not. It’s hard, he can’t lie. He didn’t know anyone’s mind could be so dark. But he won’t let it break him. He wants to be the one who always lifts Donghyuck from the ground when he falls down. 

 

;;;

 

Donghyuck is burying himself into Mark’s chest at two in the morning. He’s crying like there’s no tomorrow and Mark is carding his fingers through his hair. He doesn’t know why the other is crying this time and he already knows that he might not get an answer either. He had been fine the whole evening but only when they got ready to go to sleep, Donghyuck’s mood had dropped like there was a weight tied up to it. He falls asleep on top of Mark and it’s fine, he’s used to it. He hopes that the other sleeps well. 

He doesn’t know what time it is when he wakes up, but there’s already some light outside. Donghyuck is not on the bed. Mark gets up. Where could he be? He never wakes first nor leaves the bed at night. The first thing he sees when he comes out of the bedroom is that the front door is wide open, and his heart misses a beat. He’s completely awake as his eyes search the porch and the shore, shouts for Donghyuck. The car is in it’s place still. Nothing has changed. He runs into the surrounding forest at random, doesn’t know why, but he keeps running, shouting his name at the trees. It’s stupid, really. He shouldn’t have gone to the forest, what if he can’t find his way back? 

“Dong–!” He’s about to call his name again when he sees a white spot right in front. Donghyuck’s back. He jogs to him. The other is on his knees, sobbing in the middle of the woods. “God, Donghyuck,” he lets out, drops onto the moss under his feet. His arms wrap around the other’s waist from habit and he buries his face into his nape. He knows Donghyuck noticed him when he grips onto his hands. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry, hyung,” the other says, voice breaking between the sobs. Before Mark can ask, the other continues, “I was just – it keeps dying, hyung. I don’t understand. Why does it keep dying? Why? Why?” He cries and it’s so hopeless Mark’s heart hurts. He doesn’t want the other to be sad like this. He lifts his head, places it on Donghyuck’s shoulder, and before glancing down at the ground before them, he puts a kiss onto his cheek. 

First he doesn’t realize what he is looking at. It’s just a brown lump. Then he realizes, it is a dead rose. “Oh, Donghyuckie,” he says against his shoulder. The way he is crying over a flower is almost cute. He tries to pull him up from the ground but he doesn’t budge. 

“No, hyung. I don’t get it, why can’t I keep it alive? I’ve been trying so hard!” Mark then understands that he has been coming here often. How hasn’t he noticed? Has he always come at night?

“Hyuck, let’s go back. It’s ass o’clock in the morning and we are both tired and I get that the rose keeps dying, but maybe it’s not the right place, or the right time. Plants are really picky, you know?” He really is tired, his eyes burning, and the air is so chilly his body hair stands up. He just wants to get some more sleep before they have to leave for work. 

“It doesn’t make sense. At home I had a garden full of them, but here...” He’s mumbling now and Mark feels shivers run up his spine at the mention of home. 

“Donghyuck.”

“I didn’t do anything to them and they bloomed big the whole year around, I–“

“Dong–“

“Hyung, you–!”

“Donghyuck, Those roses weren’t real!” He shouts, and immediately regrets it when he sees Donghyuck’s face. His mouth falls shut and the look he is giving him is the one he has seen on him millions of times before but never because of Mark himself. There is fear buried in his eyes. “Shit, Hyuck, I didn’t mean to–“

“It’s okay, you are right,” the other brushes it off – or tries to, gets up from the ground, and doesn’t look at Mark again. Mark sees how he caves in on himself, keeps walking, knowing the exact route back to the cabin. Mark says his name again but he answers with another, ‘it’s fine.’ Mark wants to cry. He never in any situation wanted to hurt the other. Physically nor mentally. He tries to reach for his hand but the other pulls his away. It hurt. He steps in front of him and pauses, steps again when the other tries to go around him.

“Hyuck, please, I really didn’t mean to yell at you like that. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m tired, and I was so fucking worried when I woke up and you weren’t there and I wanted to go back and...” He’s shaking, partly because of the cold, partly because he’s afraid Donghyuck will be scared of him in the future. He can’t fuck this up. It takes time but the other looks at him. Mark is concentrating on his breathing for some reason. “I – we can try to plant some roses in a pot, I saw one on the porch at the side one day. If you want?” He tries, hopes the other can forgive him. He nods his head hesitantly and Mark gives him a reassuring smile, wants to hug him but doesn’t. Not yet. 

They walk back in silence. The walk doesn’t seem long at all now that they are coming back. Weird. Mark finds the pot there on the porch he talked about earlier, cleans it off just a little, before going into the shed to look for a spade. He finds one and takes the pot, fills it with dirt from the hill, and carries it back to the porch. He sets it down against the wall and begins on babbling about how they could ask Katrina for some rose seeds. Donghyuck however doesn’t seem to be paying much attention as he settles down beside the pot, staring at it intently. Mark halts in his talking when he sees it. Something is coming out of the dirt he had just shoveled into the pot. His eyebrows shoot up and he’s sure he’s dreaming now. A plant. It doesn’t take long before it’s in it’s full growth. Mark blinks at it several times. A rose bush with roses pinker than the sky at sunset. He settles down beside Donghyuck, leans his torso against the wall, stares down at the shore as the sun is slowly climbing over the tree-line. He won’t even ask at this point. 

They sit there for at least thirty minutes, not saying a word. 

“I know it’s wrong,” the other says quietly all of a sudden. Mark’s head snaps to him. Donghyuck gulps, looks down at his hands. “I shouldn’t feel this way but I do.” Mark feels dread take over his body. What is the other going to say? “It was why I cried last night, hyung,” he says, looks at Mark. “I was crying because,” he exhaled. “I-I miss them.” His voice breaks, his gaze leaving Mark again. “I miss my parents, my garden, my – hyung, I miss Youngho hyung,” he finally says, shuts his eyes tight and Mark shivers at the name. “I know I shouldn’t.” He’s crying now and Mark hesitates a second before wrapping his arms around the other. At times he doesn’t understand how Donghyuck works but this takes the cherry on the cake. How in the deepest hell could he miss the fuck-up-of-a-brother of his? Well, at the end of it all, he still is his brother, even if he never acts like it. He didn’t get to choose his life. Can Mark really blame him? Yes, he can. And he does. But he won’t say it. Donghyuck loves his brother whatever he decides to do and Mark can’t change that. 

“It’s okay, baby,” he tries to calm the other. “It’s all going to be just fine.”

 

;;;

 

Mark takes his phone and the charger to the café, plugs it in before they start working. He feels weird, something about this day seems odd, even though nothing out of ordinary has happened. When they have their break from work, they sprint to the staff room, and Mark presses the power button on the phone. It had been good one and a half months without power and he can’t even remember when was the last time he had felt the need to look at his phone. He had lived just fine without it. 

He’s holding his breath. The phone turns on so slowly. The background image is a picture of them, smiling at the camera in some corner of their old school. He still has blond hair and Donghyuck’s is almost lilac colored. He smiles at it. Suddenly a dozen notifications push through and the phone almost freezes. Thirty-six unanswered calls, fifty-eight messages from his parents only, and thirty-three social media notifications. He looks at it for a while longer, presses the number pad, and looks at Donghyuck.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks just to be sure. The other stares at the phone for a second before nodding his head. Mark hands it over and the other starts on tapping the number into the phone. He has never owned a phone but he remembers two numbers by heart; Mark’s, so they could talk for hours when he succeeded on bringing the house phone into his room at night without anyone noticing, and the number of the house phone. His parents had made him remember it, just in case. He puts in the final number but doesn’t press the call button. Mark can almost see the battle he is having with himself. He looks up at Mark, question in his eyes. He’s asking if he should do it. Mark doesn’t want to tell him what to do. it’s his own choice. 

“Will you boys drink the last of the coffee?” It’s Katrina. She’s standing in the threshold, coffee pan in her hand. Mark smiles at her and nods, glad that he didn’t have to answer Donghyuck’s silent question. She walks in and pours the last of it in their mugs on the counter behind her. She puts them in front of them on the table, flashes a smile – she knows what they are planning on doing, and walks back to the other side of the wall. Donghyuck is staring at the phone on the table now. Mark takes a drink of the coffee – it’s bland, just how Katrina likes it. 

Mark inspects the other for a while before reaching out. He takes his hand and Donghyuck looks up at that. Mark smiles, searches his eyes. He always does it, but it’s not like Donghyuck considers it as a bad thing, so Mark keeps doing it. He doesn’t know exactly what the other is feeling, there’s a glint to his eyes. Hope? No, what would he feel hopeful about? Donghyuck is petting his hand with his thumb, it’s nice. He looks back at the phone, inhales deep, and presses the call button. He stares at the table, and Mark knows when Youngho answers the phone by the way Donghyuck jolts, his eyes widening. He doesn’t say anything at first, just listens. 

“Hyung,” he says quietly, casts his eyes in front. “Y-Yes, I’m fine.” Mark feels awestruck. Had Youngho really asked Donghyuck how he is? He did not see that coming. Donghyuck smiles – _smiles,_ and gives Mark’s hand a playful press. The smile is short lived, though, he lets it fall as quickly it had formed. “Ah, I can’t tell you where I am, I–“ He halts and flinches. Is Youngho shouting at him? Donghyuck looks a little taken aback, but Mark can’t find the usual fear on his features and he’s happy. “I’m sorry,” he tells to the phone, pure regret in his voice and Mark tugs at his hand, frowns when he looks up. “Hyung,” he says after a while and Mark sees how much courage it takes him. “I’m going to hang up now.” He pulls the phone away from his ear with difficulties, but he ends the call, and Mark feels relieved. 

“Hey,” he says, cups Donghyuck’s cheek. “You did it,” he continues and smiles. “I’m proud of you.” The other smiles, too, lets out a sigh of relief.

“It was good to hear his voice,” he claims. Mark dares to doubt it but doesn’t say anything, just leans over the table and slots their lips together for a brief moment. “He kept asking me where I am and I – I almost told him. But I didn’t. It was refreshing.” 

Mark calls his mom after his dad didn’t answer his phone. They are both at work so he won’t be surprised if she doesn’t pick up either. She does. It’s a panicked voice that greets him. He smiles. His parents work at the same company, so it doesn’t take long before it’s both of them at the other end of the line. Mark starts crying when he hears his dad’s voice. He loves them both, but he can’t deny he has always been more close with his father. Donghyuck leaves his chair, and splays himself over Mark’s back, wraps himself around him as a gesture of support. 

His parents had been so worried. Mark remembers the letter he had left on the kitchen table the night they ran away. In it he told them about Donghyuck, how he needed to take him somewhere safe. He told them to not call the police, he was able to take care of himself. He had wanted for them to call help for Youngho, but hadn’t written it because Donghyuck had told him not to. It’s weird really, Donghyuck knows that it would be better for all, but he doesn’t want for his brother to be taken into a mental hospital. He doesn’t want to lose him. In some way, he considers it worse than death. Mark wants to understand, to look inside the other’s brain to see it how he sees it. But unfortunately, he can’t do that, so he is left to just trying to get it. And he really thinks that he has done a good job with understanding over the years, so he doesn’t take it as an impossibility. Maybe he gets it one day. 

His parents fuss over him at the other end of the line, asking him if he is healthy for the fifth time during the call. He presses the phone against his chest, effectively blocking the microphone as he turns to look at Donghyuck. He asks him if it would be okay, if he asks his parents to visit them. The younger nods his head, and Mark takes time to really be sure that he is okay with it before pressing the phone back onto his ear and voicing his suggestion. They arrange so Mark and Donghyuck will pick them up from the nearest train station the next Saturday. 

 

;;;

 

Donghyuck is fidgeting in his seat on the way to the train station. Mark’s more exited than anxious about the next few hours and he knows the other is a little pessimistic. He thinks that Mark’s parents won’t like him. Mark thinks that that is ridiculous. He catches his hand, gives a reassuring smile. He had told his parents about Donghyuck in the letter, yes, but he had left out that they are together. It didn’t feel the right way to tell them at the time. But Mark is ready to tell them now, and he is nervous, but he knows that he has nothing to be afraid of. His parents are rather open and approving of minority groups such as gays despite their age. It’s unusual for their age group to be like they are, but Mark’s not one to complain. So he tries to tell Donghyuck not to worry. They are going to fall in love with him. 

The second he sees them, he runs. The hug is tight, he can barely breath, but it’s okay. He hadn’t even realized how much he had missed them. 

“So, you must be Donghyuck?” His mother asks when they pull away. Mark looks behind him, sees Donghyuck, and smiles so wide the other blushes, casts his eyes at the ground. Mark takes steps back, catches his hand, and before he can protest, pulls him forward. He knows his parents see the way he laces their fingers but doesn’t let go, on contrary, pulls him closer, and Donghyuck’s eyes are so wide he wants to laugh. They talk for the whole car ride, his parents are exited, asking questions about everything and anything. Mark plays with Donghyuck’s fingers. 

They stop at the café first. Katrina stays at their table, gives them special treatment even though they originally came just to eat there. His parents seem to like her, saying that it’s good they had someone more adult to look after them. Donghyuck is being quiet. It’s not like he babbles on when it’s just the two of them but now he is being straight up mute. Mark takes his wrist, tries to get him say something. He doesn’t miss the way his parents glance at each other either. 

His parents are so amazed of the meadow when they see it, they even forget to ask if they actually own the place. They let them explore; they go to the shore and then they want to see the house. Donghyuck and Mark are left to stand at the main room as his parents look around. Mark is holding his breath when they look into the bedroom. They stare for a while and Mark knows it’s the double bed that is attracting their attention. They glance at each other and then at them. Mark smiles a little, his heart thumping. He reaches for Donghyuck on his side, pulls him in. His parents don’t say anything but when they smile, Mark knows that they are fine with it. They are fine with them. 

They all end up crying when they part. His parents need to get back home, and it’s not like there was any space for them to stay for a night anyway. Mark is so happy he got to see them again. He teases Donghyuck for his earlier worries, they did love him, and the other just smiles so his eyes crinkle and Mark coos at him. 

 

;;;

 

They find an apartment for the winter. It’s low maintenance, and just in the outskirts of the nearest town, close to the café and the cabin. It’s not the nicest thing they have ever seen, but they grow to love it as much as they love the meadow. They ask Katrina about the cabin when they have completely settled in, too. She tells them that an old married couple without heir had owned it once, but it had been abandoned when they had passed away. Now it was owned by the town and was in the market for sale, but no one had come to check it out in a long time. 

Donghyuck calls his brother again a few months later. They talk for half an hour and with time it becomes a weekly thing. He’s not ready to see him yet, but what he tells Mark, he understands that he is going to seek for help. Maybe the loneliness has made him think. 

They get same aged friends, too. Both of them take a few courses in the local high school, and soon they find a bunch of boys clinging to them, asking them where they had come from. They call their little group ‘Dreamies’. 

And it is fine. Like he had told Donghyuck time and time again, they really are fine. And he doesn’t think the future will be any worse. He can’t stop smiling when Donghyuck tells him that he is happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


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